


Momentum

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: impetus [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Trans Character, trust building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving."--Robert Louis Stevenson</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Harrison finally gives everything to Barry, in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Momentum

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Aftershock](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214050) by [PepperPrints](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPrints/pseuds/PepperPrints). 



> So this is a fic super, super inspired by [Aftershock by PepperPrints](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5214050). I absolutely adore that fic and couldn't get enough, so I decided to try my own hand at trans!Harrison/Barry. You should definitely go read their fic!
> 
> Warnings for a perhaps odd portrayal of Harrison-2; this fic is meant to explore his softer side that I'm sure exists, so he's not quite as biting as he might be in other fics. Additionally, you might notice a lot of repetition of certain phrases (specifically "please," "thank you/thank you for giving me this") and that was entirely intentional. 
> 
> Briefly beta'd, but if you notice any glaring errors feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy!

Harrison is asleep with his back turned to Barry; Barry is awake and staring at the black t-shirt covering Harrison’s back. It’s always like this: Harrison never lets Barry see him without a shirt. They don’t shower together, and even when Barry finds him in the weight room Harrison has at least a tight fitting tank top covering his torso. Barry understands why, he truly does, but after so many months of _this_ , he had kind of hoped things might change. It doesn’t help that Harrison barely lingers in the afterglow and often kisses Barry chastely before turning over, falling asleep, not a word spoken until the next morning.

Harrison isn’t always so detached but he’s not nearly as affectionate as Barry prefers. And, again, Barry understands why that is. He understands far too well. That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Barry watches the soft rise and fall of Harrison’s body as he sleeps, and decides to take a chance. The older man doesn’t sleep deeply and Barry knows he is walking into the lion’s den as he turns and wraps his arms around Harrison’s chest. Barry holds him close and tight but with a grip open enough for Harrison to shove him away.

The moments pass and Barry thinks he might’ve gotten away with it, that Harrison is still asleep and Barry can relish the feeling of their bodies pressed together. He’s just beginning to drift into sleep when a hand covers his—his hand that is splayed over Harrison’s heartbeat. Harrison’s own hand rises and links their fingers and he makes no move to push Barry away. The speedster can’t help but move closer and press a kiss to the back of Harrison’s neck.

“Thank you.”

))

“Fuck—fuck—fuck—holy _fuck_ ,” Barry can’t stop himself, he’s vocal and it’s not something he can tamp down on. The effort is especially futile when Harrison is on his knees, mouthing at Barry’s cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Barry’s mind is certifiably fried: he hadn’t expected Harrison to be waiting for him, for Harrison to practically pounce on him and slam him into a wall and make quick work of Barry’s pants. “Fuck, Harry,” Barry pants as he looks down at the man.

Harrison’s eyes are open and don’t give away a trace of emotion. It’s not a bad thing per se, a bit unnerving perhaps, but it’s not an unkind or apathetic stare. It’s analytical, like all of Harrison is. His mouth keeps moving, though, sliding lewdly along the length of Barry’s prick. Faintly, Barry is sure there’s a curve at the corners of Harrison’s lips, a smile wrapped around his length.

It’s that—the soft crinkle of laugh lines around Harrison’s eyes—that pushes Barry over the edge. He grips Harrison’s head and squeezes as warning; Barry’s free hand swings and hits the wall above his head as he cries out, Harrison’s name on his lips and _loud_.

Barry comes down from the high and sinks to the floor after Harrison has pulled back. Barry grins dopily at the older man, pulls him in for a kiss to taste himself on Harrison’s tongue. For a while, they kiss. Idly Barry can feel it as Harrison tucks his softening cock away, so polite. Barry laughs into the kiss and tugs Harrison closer until the man is practically in his lap.

It’s almost disconcerting when Harrison doesn’t try to resist, but Barry can’t bring himself to care. He’s wanted closeness like this with Harrison since the beginning, and if the man is willing to give it now, that’s fine by Barry. They continue to kiss, alternating between chaste and soft, to harsh and biting. Barry has never enjoyed kissing someone as much as he enjoys kissing Harrison.

Barry lets his hands wander from clutching at Harrison’s back to the waistband of his pants. Barry has his fingertips on the button and zipper when Harrison is stopping him and pulling away. Barry lets out a keening sound, sad and admittedly pathetic. Harrison doesn’t stand or walk away; he just slides from Barry’s lap to sit in front of the younger man.

“Please,” Barry keeps his voice soft as though he might scare Harrison away like a skittish animal. “I want to make you feel good.”

An uncharacteristic blush is staining Harrison’s cheeks and Barry wants to kiss it. He doesn’t move though.

“You do so much for me,” Barry pleads, “let me return the favor.” He doesn’t go further than that though there’s so much more he wants to say. They’ve been at this for nearly a year—Barry thinks it’s safe to say they’re dating even if they haven’t discussed it in finite detail. They sleep together; Harrison is at Barry’s apartment more than he is at his own home with Jesse.  They go out to dinner, and Barry posts sickeningly sweet posts to Facebook about Harrison, and they sometimes kiss in front of others. They’re dating, assuredly.

But in the near year they’ve been together, their physical relationship has been odd. They have sex, frequently and excellently. Harrison seems to have a fixation on sucking Barry off and then riding him until the speedster has come a few more times. And Harrison always comes, too, at least once or maybe twice if he’s feeling especially determined. But he doesn’t let Barry touch him, doesn’t let Barry finger him or taste him, and it drives Barry _nuts_.

Barry doesn’t mind that Harrison doesn’t like being on his back, doesn’t like giving power to someone like that. Barry can respect that (and if he’s being honest, the view of Harrison bouncing in his lap is too good to resist) and it doesn’t bother him. But he _does_ want to make his partner feel good, wants to return the favor that Harrison doles out regularly and without complaint.

Barry stares and Harrison who is staring at the floor between them.  Barry isn’t sure what to say and Harrison doesn’t seem to know either. Before the silence has stretched too long, Barry stands and extends a hand to Harrison. Harrison takes it and lets Barry pull him up. Barry smiles at Harrison, tired but willing to let the topic drop for now. He kisses Harrison and when he pulls away, he asks, “dinner?”

)

They’re both sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching television, eating out of take-out containers like a bunch of teenagers when the air changes. Barry almost doesn’t notice the shift but when he looks over to Harrison he realizes the man is staring back at him with those piercing blue eyes. Barry swallows the bite of food lingering in his mouth and blinks, as if to say, _uh, yes?_

Harrison sets his mostly finished food on the coffee table, and reaches to Barry and takes his container as well. Barry lets himself be guided as his heart pounds in his chest. Harrison stands and strips until he’s in nothing but his usual t-shirt. Barry bites his tongue on a complaint and readies himself for what Harrison is willing to give him.

Harrison crawls into Barry’s lap with his legs spread wide—wide enough for Barry to _touch_. Harrison grabs one of Barry’s wrists and brings it to the lips of his entrance.

Barry can’t help the choked noise that tumbles out of him. “Have you—?” Harrison guides his fingers through the wetness between his legs and Barry moans. It’s been just shy of two hours since Barry got home and to know Harrison has been _wet_ this whole time is mind numbing.

Harrison’s nerves seem to dissipate slightly at Barry’s reverence. He has a smirk in place instead of a carefully strict expression. He braces his free hand on Barry’s shoulder and continues to let Barry’s hand closer to his body. Barry looks up when Harrison lets go of his wrist.

“Can I?” Barry asks just to be absolutely certain. Harrison just nods and Barry can’t resist any longer. He dips a single finger into the wet heat of Harry’s body, moves slowly, exploring how he feels inside. Barry watches, as best he can from his angle, as his finger presses in and pulls out and presses in. He’s not an expert when it comes to vaginas, but he’s not a fumbling newbie, either. It might have been a while but he doesn’t let that deter him.

When Harrison’s noises become a touch impatient, Barry adds a second finger and moves a little faster. Harrison has both hands gripping Barry’s shoulders and his hips are rolling to meet Barry’s fingers. Barry can’t decide what looks better: Harrison’s body accepting his touch, or Harrison’s mouth hanging open in pleasure.

When Barry presses his thumb to Harrison’s clit and starts to rub, slowly, Barry decides Harrison’s answering expression is the best thing he’s ever seen. Usually so calm and collected, Harrison’s face is flushed and a bit pinched. His mouth is still hanging open except for the moments when Barry hits just the right spot inside, and Harrison bites his lip to stifle a gasp.

“Please let me hear you,” Barry’s voice is a hoarse whisper but Harrison hears him. Harrison nods again and his mouth opens a little wider. Barry hangs on every moan like it’s gospel and it spurs him on to hear more. He moves his two fingers faster; he pulls his thumb away for a brief moment to wet it and quickly returns to teasing the older man’s clit.

Barry marvels at the expert roll of Harrison’s hips, how the man knows exactly how to move to feel good, to help Barry make him feel good.

When Harrison drops a hand to push Barry’s away, fear strikes through the speedster that he’s done something wrong or crossed an unknown line. Harrison’s smile is comforting, though, and Barry waits. Harrison doesn’t move from his lap and instead only adjusts Barry’s hand. “Please.” It’s soft and almost nothing more than a hiss, but Barry catches the word from Harrison’s lips and understands. He presses two fingers inside Harrison again and thrusts in earnest.

Harrison’s hand almost bumps Barry’s as he turns his attention to his clit; he’s a bit particular about just the right way to touch that spot on his body, and he hasn’t given Barry the chance to learn. Barry watches as two of Harrison’s fingers press against the pink nub and move in a mesmerizing fashion.

Soon, fast, Barry realizes Harrison is clenching around his fingers and his moans increase in pitch and frequency. Barry watches in awe as Harrison’s eyes close, his head drops back, he loses control. Barry speeds up his fingers just enough to vibrate and relishes the look of shock that startles Harrison. It’s a trick Harrison has long known about but Barry loves to use it when it’s least expected.

He keeps thrusting, keeps vibrating inside Harrison; he presses his thumb over Harrison’s own fingers to vibrate there, as well. He’s speaking before he can think better of it. “Come for me, please.” To Barry’s surprise, Harrison—or, rather, Harrison’s body—obeys. His body stiffens and his vagina clenches in beats around Barry’s fingers. Harrison clenches tighter as if to draw him in deeper before his body relaxes.

Harrison falls forward and leans all his weight on Barry. Barry accepts it gladly, far too pleased to care even if he wanted to. Harrison is panting in his ear and tries to catch his breath again. Barry feels equally sated even though his cock is hard again. He pulls his fingers from Harrison, can’t help but enjoy the moan he earns in response.

Barry’s clean hand strokes along Harrison’s back, down his thigh, massaging the taught skin. Harrison sinks down until he’s resting in Barry’s lap again. It’s now that Barry feels a bit embarrassed. His hand is slick and he’s reluctant to wipe his hand on the couch. Not only that, but Harrison has to know Barry is hard, and the last thing Barry wants is for his partner to feel obligated to take care of it.

Harrison raises his head and the look he gives Barry is a precious one. It’s one Barry has seen only in the brief moments after they’ve both come and before Harrison moves across the bed to sleep. Harrison’s eyes turn to Barry’s hand, wet and just sort of hanging beside them. Harrison _laughs_ , and Barry wishes he could commit the sound to memory.

Harrison grabs Barry’s wrist yet again, taps Barry’s lips with his free hand. Barry raises an eyebrow. Harrison rolls his eyes. “The napkins are in the kitchen, I’m not moving anytime soon, and you are _not_ wiping that on the couch, Allen.” Barry grins and nods. He opens his mouth and sucks his own fingers clean.

Immediately he feels dizzier and harder than he’s ever felt in his life. This is his first time tasting _Harrison_ , first time he’s ever gotten a chance like this. He laps at the taste on his fingers, mind foggy and hazy, and comes when Harrison barely presses a hand to Barry’s jean clad cock. Barry nearly bites down on his own fingers as he comes in his pants, and can’t even be mad when Harrison laughs at him, too enamored with the sound.

))

It’s a few weeks later that Barry comes home to find Harrison waiting at the door, yet again. There’s a softly hungry look in his eyes and Barry follows him to the bedroom without a word. Harrison strips Barry of his shirt and then pushes the speedster to the bed. Barry goes without resistance; he watches from where he’s propped up against the headboard as Harrison strips again, still leaving his shirt on as always.

Barry feels breathless when Harrison climbs onto the bed, creeping closer to his face. Barry licks his lips and tries to ignore the blush rising to his face. He’s eaten people out before, but never like _this_. This is lewd and crude even if that’s not why Harrison prefers it this way. In the back of his mind, Barry is a bit hurt that he’s still not trusted enough for Harrison to be comfortable on his back—

But, as the smell and taste of Harrison invade Barry’s senses, something tells him it’ll happen in due time.

))

They’re out to dinner with Joe, Iris, and Jesse when things take that turn. Barry isn’t sure the inner workings of Harrison’s mind, is a bit afraid to find out; Barry isn’t sure why all it took was Barry pleading on the floor of his house after a mind numbing blow job for Harrison to change his tune, but it’s a nice change all the same.

They’re out to dinner at a nice restaurant, like _nice_. They’re all dressed well and chatting happily when Barry nearly spills wine across the table. He plays the startle as surprise at his phone going off, and knows he’s not really fooling anyone. He casts a glare at Harrison who looks like a cat who got the cream.

Harrison doesn’t remove his hand from where it sits atop Barry’s. Harrison had reached over, innocently linked their fingers, then pulled Barry’s hand to the inside of Harrison’s thigh. It was subtle enough that no one else seemed to notice the movement but Barry’s mind is fast faltering at the heat he feels pooling in Harrison’s groin.

Dinner passes painfully slow and Barry almost feels bad when he rushes through goodbyes, till next times, see you laters. He loathes the fact they took a car to dinner and his leg bounces the entire drive home.

Harrison’s victorious smirk isn’t helping.

The minute they’re inside Barry’s apartment, Barry has his hands on Harrison, yanking at his suit jacket and tie. They toe out of their shoes and stumble to the bedroom. Barry growls as he lets Harrison press him against the bedroom door. “I can’t believe you, what’s gotten into you?” Barry feels like their usual roles are oddly reversed—the look in Harrison’s eyes is young and sharp and excited.

Harrison hums without giving much away. He nuzzles along Barry’s face and neck, biting and kissing as he goes.

“Is everything okay?” Barry finally asks because he can’t help it. For so long Barry was pretty sure he’d never get to touch or taste Harrison the way he has the past few weeks. The sudden change, even if Barry had asked for it, is jarring and concerning.

Harrison stills.

“I think we should talk about this.” Barry says in a soft voice. Part of his brain wishes he’d never said anything, eager to see what Harrison has in store, but a much louder part of his brain is telling him to do the right thing. Barry reaches for the doorknob and they tumble into the bedroom. They’re half-stripped and looking far less pristine than before when they sink onto the bed.

Barry waits.

“You… you made a good point.” A pained look crosses Harrison’s face, as though it’s hard to admit that Barry had a good idea. Barry knows the expression is mostly for show. “You are my partner, and I was holding back. I shouldn’t have been holding back.” Harrison knocks a knee against Barry’s. “I was afraid.” His voice shakes. “It had been a long time since I was with anyone. And far too often, on my Earth when people learned about _me_ , they tried to hold it over me.”

Barry nods, he understands this, Harrison had explained it in the beginning as well.

“I have been betrayed too many times, and I let myself become jaded even with you.” Harrison admits. Things had eased as they got closer to catching Zoom and it was as though Harrison was a new person once Jesse was safe with them. “You were right, that’s all. It had passed the point of me needing control to me just… being afraid. And I knew, realistically speaking, that I had— _have_ no reason to be afraid of you.”

Barry grins and his heart skips a beat.

“I could see it was hurting you. It was hurting you and that matters to me more than being afraid.” Harrison meets Barry’s eyes with his own private smile. “So I wanted to make the change.”

Barry leans in and kisses Harrison soundly on the lips. “Thank you,” he insists though their lips aren’t apart and his words are muffled. “Thank you for giving me this.” Their kiss deepens and the pick up where they left off in divesting the other of clothes. Barry is down to his boxers and Harrison is in nothing but a soft white undershirt.

Barry’s voice catches in his throat when Harrison lies back, head resting on pillows and legs spread _just_ for Barry. Barry whines but freezes; his mind is overloaded and he’s not sure what to do first. Harrison waits patiently, still smiling a bit, body relaxed and open. Barry’s hands rest on the inside of Harrison’s thighs and he grips the flesh to ground him.

“Any day now, Allen.” Harrison taunts with a minute lift of his hips. His voice isn’t harsh, though, if anything it’s just as breathless as Barry’s own.

Barry leans in and presses his tongue flat to Harrison’s clit. Harrison gasps above him and his legs close just a bit, nearly trapping Barry there. It must be noted that Barry _loves_ it, loves the feeling of Harrison’s soft-haired thighs tickling his skin. He brings his hands to cup the backs of Harrison’s thighs and presses in deeper, closer.

Harrison moans and smacks the bed sheets beside him, then curls his fingers in the sheets. “B-Barry,” his voice is soft and tender and Barry catches the quiver in his tone, one full of nerves. Barry reaches up with one hand and links fingers with Harrison, lending the man comfort as best he can. “C-c’mon, Allen.”

Barry pulls back for a brief moment; he levels Harrison with a gaze. “Call me Barry, please.”

Harrison’s own eyes soften and he nods. Barry can’t help the way his face shifts from somewhat serious into an exuberant grin—he adores it when Harrison caves to him and when the older man is more vulnerable, less stoic. Barry leans back in to teasingly kiss his partner’s clit, lets his hot breath ghost over the small space of engorged skin.

Barry wets his mouth and returns to lapping in slow strokes across Harrison’s clit; it’s small movements given fast that send Harrison into a frenzy and make Barry’s jaw ache. He doesn’t stop though, far too eager to taste. One of Harrison’s hands combs through Barry’s hair encouragingly. Barry presses in closer for more pressure and can’t help but enjoy the way Harrison’s come smears along his chin.

Barry looks up at Harrison, and takes a chance. He’s done it when they’ve kissed, but not yet when he’s been allowed to taste. Barry concentrates and ignores the bizarre feeling of his tongue and mouth vibrating. Harrison lurches forward, sitting up and pressing Barry’s face down for more friction.

“God, Barry!” Harrison moans through clenched teeth and his body bounces between relaxed enjoyment and tense excitement. Barry pulls his hand away from where it was grasping Harrison’s thigh and brings it to join his mouth. Harrison swears when Barry teases along his entrance with a single finger. Barry doesn’t press in, no matter how insistently Harrison’s hip buck for it.

Barry keeps his focus on his mouth and continuing to make the vibration stronger. Harrison’s grip in his hair tightens to the point of pain, but it just spurs Barry on more.

“Barry— _Barry_ , I can’t—!” Harrison’s voice turns desperate and breathless, and it’s Barry’s answering moan against his clit that tips the older man over the edge. Harrison gasps and this time his legs really do cage Barry in, not letting him move until the waves of pleasure have subsided. Barry just clings and goes with the motions of Harrison’s rolling hips.

He doesn’t move until Harrison’s legs fall limp onto the bed. Barry licks his lips but when his face still feels slick with come he reaches for a shirt beside the bed to wipe his mouth. Harrison shoots him a somewhat disdainful look that does nothing to dampen Barry’s mood. Barry slinks up and settles beside Harrison, smiling at him with all teeth.

Harrison snorts and pats Barry’s face. “Want me to return the favor?” Harrison asks and though his words might seem clinical there’s a distinct hunger in his eyes that Barry craves.

But Barry shakes his head. “Nah, I’m fine.”

Harrison casts a pointed gaze to where Barry is very obviously hard and straining in his underwear. He draws his gaze back to Barry and raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

Barry shrugs. He leans in and kisses Harrison, enjoying the way Harrison rises to meet his lips. “I’m good _for now_.” And that’s undeniably true, because Barry is still riding the high of the night. His mouth tastes like nothing but _Harrison_ and watching the man fall apart to his mouth is as good as getting his own release, at least in Barry’s book.

))

Barry doesn’t ask for more than Harrison’s willing to give, not after that first night that launched the thousand ships—or thousand orgasms, rather. Barry doesn’t let it bother him that he still hasn’t been allowed to cover Harrison’s body with his own, buried inside his partner and getting as close as possible. Barry genuinely _almost_ doesn’t totally mind, because he still gets to touch and taste Harrison more than he had before, and Harrison has changed in other, beautiful ways as well.

Where before Harrison had been a touch more apprehensive about public displays of affection, he now never hesitates to hold Barry’s hand if the opportunity arises. He always makes sure to kiss Barry before the speedster takes off to face danger. Harrison was once especially cautious of his and Barry’s interactions when they were around Jesse, but now the older man seems to take delight in getting his daughter to exclaim _“dad, c’mon, really?”_

It’s an adjustment to be sure; Barry still forgets sometimes that he’s sort of supposed to wait for Harrison to get that pre-battle kiss before speeding off, and the others at S.T.A.R. labs aren’t quite used to such blatant emotion from Harrison. But, it’s a good change, a change for the better. It’s why Barry doesn’t bring up how badly he wants to take care of Harrison for even just one night, to hold the man as close as possible. Barry doesn’t bring up how badly he wants to see Harrison without a shirt so he can lavish attention to whatever insecurities are underneath the fabric.

Barry takes what Harrison gives him and tries to give just as much in return.

))

**_From: Harry - 12:47pm  
_ ** _happy birthday, barry_

Barry stares at the message on his phone completely unable to hide his surprise. He’s in his office at the CCPD, just finishing up for the day, and his phone had chimed unexpectedly. It was odd to see such a message for a multitude of reasons: first and foremost, Harrison rarely texted, much more likely to call or just wait until they were face to face. Secondly, Barry’s fairly sure he was meant to be in the ‘dog house’ because Harrison hadn’t spoken to him for three days, hadn’t come home to Barry’s apartment, and hadn’t wished Barry a happy birthday until this moment—not in the morning like he’d done in the past. Barry had tried to confront Harrison about the behavior, but couldn’t find the man no matter how hard he tried.

**_To: Harry – 12:50pm  
_ ** _thank you <3_

There are a million more things he wants to say but he hopes the heart conveys the most of it. He only has ten minutes until the end of his shift, the perks of a half day due to it being your birthday, but he can’t focus enough now to finish the remainder of his work even with super speed. He’s too anxious, desperate to see if Harrison will respond.

When his phone finally does chime Barry nearly knocks all his reports and folders to the floor in his rush to answer.

**_From: Harry – 12:52pm  
_ ** _please come home when you can_

Barry’s heart races and he abandons any hope of finishing the rest of his work today. He has his stuff in hand and is speeding away without responding. He bursts into his apartment and practically throws his jacket and the few reports he grabbed to the floor. Barry scans the foyer intently—he knows it’s not an emergency, not of the metahuman variety, but it’s still _important_.

“Harry?”

“In here.” Harrison’s voice isn’t smooth or teasing. It’s so soft Barry almost misses it, and it’s only because his apartment is so compact that he knows it’s coming from his— _their?—_ bedroom. Barry kicks off his shoes then zips into the room, traces of yellow lightening flickering on his skin as he takes in the sight before him.

_“Harry.”_

Harrison’s smile is embarrassed, as though he’s almost having second thoughts, as though he loves the way Barry says his name. Harrison is sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt and boxers, hands in his lap and legs tucked underneath his body. “Barry.” He greets.

Barry moves to the bed and sits beside his partner, eyes wide and mouth open. “I thought you were mad at me.”

A guilty look overtakes Harrison. “No, no I wasn’t. I’m not.” Harrison twiddles his thumbs in a nervous gesture Barry has never known of the man. It’s tantalizing and terrifying to be privy to this side of him, a side no one but likely Tess and Jesse have ever seen. Barry feels dizzy or as though this is a dream. “I was sorting things out, and I’m sorry to have alienated you.”

Barry stays stock still as Harrison leans in to cup his face. Harrison studies him for a few silent moments with a small smile in place. Barry returns the grin.

“Did you get stuff sorted out?” Barry asks though it’s fairly clear Harrison has.

Even so, Harrison nods with a quiet laugh. “Yes, Barry, I did.” Harrison leans in again, hand still gently gripping Barry’s chin, and this time he kisses the speedster softly on the lips. He kisses Barry again, and again, a series of nothing more than lips to lips and yet it sends sparks down Barry’s spine. After a slightly longer kiss, Harrison pulls back again. “I was preparing myself for—for this. To give you _this_.” Harrison’s other hand rises as well and Barry catches it to lace their fingers together. “I want to give you everything.”

Barry’s heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest. His nod is minute and barely there, and words are hardly something he could manage at this moment.

Harrison smiles. “Think you’re up for it, tonight?”

“This is a really weird, really amazing birthday present.” Barry blurts out in answer. His chest is heaving as though he’s run a marathon.

Harrison laughs and shakes his head. “You’re something else, Barry Allen.”

Barry’s laugh overtakes the room and he nearly dives to kiss Harrison. He pushes into the man’s personal bubble and kisses Harrison deeply but fast and biting. Harrison hums into the kiss and climbs into Barry’s lap, loops his arms around Barry’s neck. Barry is mumbling as he kisses Harrison’s neck and jaw, it’s nonsense and reverent and an endless stream of affection.

When Barry finally grips the hems of Harrison’s black t-shirt, they pause. Barry looks from the edge of the garment into the man’s eyes. Harrison grins and raises his arms in clear permission. Barry lifts the shift up gently and helps when Harrison gets a bit tangled in the sleeves.

Barry leans back on his hands and admires the chest he’s only seen in glimpses and never up close like this before. Harrison isn’t buff or especially defined, but he’s not unfit either. His body is slightly carved with muscle definition, particularly his arms. There are a few scars here and there—like the one just a few inches shy of his heart from when Patty shot him. There are battle scars littering his body, and then there are the scars Barry knows have worried Harrison the most.

They’re pale and soft and almost easy to miss, given how old they are. Barry traces them tentatively with his fingertips. They follow the curve of Harrison’s peck, clean cut and not jagged. Barry admires them curiously, admires the strength of Harrison. When Barry flicks a finger over one of Harrison’s nipples, he then admires the gasp he gets in response. He grins up at Harrison.

“Thank you,” Barry settles his hands back on Harrison’s waist and begins to shift them; he shifts so that Harrison is on the bed, on his back, and Barry is looming over him without menace. “Thank you for this.”

Harrison smiles and gestures for Barry to move closer. The speedster does, gently and with hesitation should Harrison change his mind. Their bodies slide together like perfect puzzle pieces, each dip and curve of the other fitting against the other precisely. Barry moans, loud and guttural, at the feeling. It’s what he’s wanted since the moment he accepted his feelings for Harrison. Harrison’s legs cradle Barry’s hips in the best way—they draw him closer and their hips begin to roll.

Barry is hard and hot in his pants and craves the feeling of Harrison against him. The barrier of Harrison’s boxers and Barry’s jeans doesn’t provide enough contact, but it’s the tantalizing promise of _more_ that has Barry in love with the movements. He can feel Harrison get wet, the way his boxers grow damp with sweat and come.

Barry sits back to undo his own pants; he trips out of them and kicks his legs until they fall somewhere to the side of the bed. He returns eagerly to his place with Harrison. Now, with only thin layers of underwear separating them, Barry’s hips piston desperately. He’s obsessed with the feeling of Harrison’s heat grinding against him.

Harrison tilts his hips up just _so_ , to increase the friction. Barry’s mind is sluggish and he’s unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of his cock pressed against Harrison’s clit. He moans and reaches down to tug at the waistband of Harrison’s boxers. “Please, please let me.” Barry kisses Harrison desperately then presses their foreheads together.

Harrison nods and raises his hips again, allowing Barry to pull the boxers off and throw them across the room. Harrison bites back the urge to reprimand especially as Barry shimmies out of his own offending underwear. Before Barry can move back, though, Harrison points to the shirt still clinging to Barry’s chest. Barry has it off in the blink of an eye and then he’s covering Harrison’s body with his own again.

Things slow down without either man meaning for them to. The tenderness of the moment increases and Barry puts all his effort into kissing Harrison senseless. He’s hyperaware of his cock and how good it feels each time he brushes against Harrison. Barry marvels at the lack of tension in Harrison’s body and feels a rush of warmth at the pure trust radiating between them.

“Should I—do you want my fingers first?” Barry asks in an unnecessary whisper. They’re the only two in the apartment, there’s no one to overhear them, but the moment feels too intimate to break with anything louder than a hushed tone.

Harrison shakes his head. “No, Barry, I took care of that before you—before this.” Harrison’s grin is just this side of debauched and the mental image that runs through Barry’s head is almost too distracting. It’s something Barry files away for later so he can return to the task at hand.

When he sits up, Harrison opens his legs wider. Barry doesn’t move, though, instead choosing to take in the picture before him. Harrison’s glasses are a bit askew and his hair is a disaster. He’s completely naked for Barry, for the first time. Barry’s eyes linger on the scars on Harrison’s chest before drifting further down to the hair above his clit and the visible wetness at his entrance.

Barry’s skin is on fire; despite the fact this is far from the most scandalous thing he’s ever seen, the way Harrison is looking at him makes it feel like something illicit and dirty and _secret_. Barry supposes, as he spreads the lips of Harrison’s labia and runs a finger through the come gathering there, it sort of is. A possessive thrill runs through Barry as he thinks how _no one_ will ever get to see Harrison like this. This is all for Barry, and Barry alone.

A harsh and sharp voice cuts through his reverie: “Bartholomew Allen if you don’t _hurry up_ and—!” Harrison’s threat is cut off when Barry slips a finger inside anyway. Harrison grits his teeth against the pleasure. “I told you—?”

Barry shushes him. “I know, I want to.” Since that first night on the couch, Barry has been a bit obsessed with watching his fingers inside Harrison. Tonight is no different. “What if I made you come like this first?” Barry’s voice drops an octave and rumbles.

Harrison’s body clenches around the finger inside him and he moans. “Fine,” his voice no longer holds authority and instead shakes, “it’s your birthday after all.”

Barry grins and doesn’t answer the cheeky surrender aside from adding another finger. He thrusts fast but not deep; he teases the inner edges of Harrison, a bit cruel in avoiding _that spot_ inside the man. Barry vibrates his fingers each time he pulls out, and stops each time he thrusts in. It draws moans and gasps from Harrison that Barry hasn’t heard before.

“Barry, _please_!”

Barry leans forward, fingers never ceasing, and trails his tongue along the scars on Harrison’s chest. He moves his fingers deeper every other thrust and can feel the way Harrison’s body tenses in anticipation. He kisses the scars and lavishes attention between both sides and doesn’t stop until Harrison has knotted a hand in Barry’s hair.

“Barry, I’m—I’m going to come.” Harrison’s voice is tight as the orgasm builds inside him. Barry grins against Harrison’s chest and vibrates his fingers consistently, faster, deeper. Harrison’s hips roll to get _more_ and his moans are uninhibited. Harrison makes a confused noise of lost when Barry sits up without removing his fingers.

“I want to see.” Barry explains and indeed his eyes are hungry, greedy. Harrison nods and his own eyes slip shut. Barry falls silent to better hear every single sound that falls from Harrison’s mouth. Barry can feel the rhythmic pulses around his fingers beginning and the way Harrison’s chest starts to heave give away what’s about to happen—

Barry uses his super speed—an uncommon event in the bedroom aside from the vibrating—to remove his fingers and slides his cock into Harrison at just the right moment. Harrison nearly _screams_ , back arching and voice hoarse. Barry can’t help but grin at the reaction. He doesn’t move his hips at all, just enjoying the way his cock fills Harrison and the way Harrison clenches around him and how the wetness increases between their bodies.

Harrison’s body relaxes again with a final moan and he gasps for air. Barry doesn’t move and instead waits for the man to catch his breath. When Harrison meets his gaze, Barry is surprised to see such a glazed look masking the blue eyes. Harrison is grinning from ear to ear and a laugh is trickling into the room.

“You are so—I can’t believe I didn’t see that—?” Harrison presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, glasses shoved aside for the moment. He laughs until his breathing has evened out. “I can’t believe you.”

Barry’s grin is obnoxious, this he knows without needing to see it. “It was good though, right?” There’s no insecurity in his tone and instead only excitement.

The blush on Harrison’s face burns brighter and he nods.

Barry smirks and it prompts a half-hearted glare from Harrison. “Is it okay for me to—?”

Harrison’s answer is to lock his legs around Barry’s waist and pull him in closer. It’s his turn to smirk at the shudder Barry lets out. “C’mon, Barry,” Harrison curls an arm across Barry’s shoulders and pulls him down until their chests are flush together. His voice is like a lure that draws Barry to his lips until they’re kissing.

Barry’s hips start to move and the grind of his body against Harrison’s lends an overwhelming amount of friction to Harrison’s clit. Harrison’s hand on Barry’s back grips, tightens, nails digging into skin. Barry’s own hands grip Harrison’s waist to keep him still so Barry can drive in faster and harder. The slide of his cock inside Harrison is soft, wet, and it’s heady to Barry to know that there’s not an ounce of tension lingering in Harrison’s body.

He’s completely open to Barry; he’s holding nothing back. He’s not avoiding Barry’s gaze and he’s not biting back Barry’s name. He’s _shirtless_ and somehow that’s the best part for Barry in the most ridiculous way. He’s on his back _for Barry_ , and there’s no trace of fear or regret.

Barry feels his eyes grow hot with tears and as much as he wants to bury his face in the curve of Harrison’s neck and shoulder, he resists. He keeps his eyes locked onto Harrison’s and lets the man see every side of him as well. Barry braces an arm beside Harrison’s head so he can watch as Harrison comes undone, again.

Harrison is quieter this time but not because of restraint, and instead because of over stimulation. His body tightens around Barry’s cock and it’s almost too much, Harrison’s choked gasps verge on sobs as the second orgasm surges through him. Barry kisses him on the mouth and slows his pace only a little. When he pulls back, Harrison’s eyes are pleading.

“Don’t stop, Barry, do not stop.”

Barry obeys and speeds up again; his hand on Harrison’s waist grips hard enough to bruise, and sparks of the speedforce surge through him. He can practically feel the electricity in his eyes and he knows his body is vibrating just enough to drive Harrison towards a third brink. Barry presses their foreheads together. “Thank you for giving me this,” he’s choked up again and tears are still prickling in the corners of his eyes. Harrison’s arms around him turn soft and gentle and he nods. Barry kisses Harrison’s temple, mouths at the skin as his own orgasm builds. “I’m going to come.” Barry warns shakily.

Harrison keeps his face close and practically nuzzles his cheek against Barry’s. The heat of an orgasm is trickling along his spine again and even though he already feels spent and weak, Harrison readies himself for it eagerly. He kisses Barry’s cheek, his jaw, then his ear before whispering, “I love you, Barry Allen.”

Barry’s face immediately grows wet with tears and he half-laughs, half-moans against Harrison’s face. He and Harrison come at the same time, bodies writhing together and pulsing in sync. Barry lets out an unintelligible string of words, Harrison’s name mixed in for good measure, as the sensation overwhelms him. He’ll never get over coming inside Harrison, the possessive streak that always runs through him and the sharp strings of _love_ that cloud his mind.

His hips gradually come to a stop but he doesn’t pull out. He lets the weight of his body sink until he and Harrison are flush again. Barry grins and kisses Harrison over and over and over again. Between each kiss, Barry murmurs, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Eventually once the sweat and come on their bodies has dried, Harrison shoves Barry away with affection. “I need a shower.” Harrison grumbles, but the smile in place lessens the effect. Barry stands eagerly and practically latches onto Harrison’s back. They walk in tandem, almost a waddle from how close Barry is pressed to the older man.

It’s another experience they’ve never shared: showering together. Barry is practically bouncing as Harrison gets the shower started and steam fills the bathroom. Harrison’s glasses are left on the bathroom counter as they step under the water together. Barry watches with fascination as Harrison cleans himself.

“I’m not getting back into bed with you if you don’t actually wash up.” Harrison scolds.

Barry laughs and starts to lather his own hair. “You know we can’t stay in bed all day, right? Iris has a party planned, Jesse helped, and it’s kind of a huge deal for us to be there?”

“ _You_ have to be there,” Harrison counters, “I’m not the birthday boy.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “You have to be there too or Jesse’ll come after you.”

Harrison sighs in defeat but it’s playful. He lathers up a washcloth and starts to run it along Barry’s body. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Barry shrugs and enjoys the attention. “Yeah but you love me,” he draws out the word _love_ like a kid in a schoolyard, or the way Iris used to say _Becky Cooper_. Harrison doesn’t object, instead laughs and steps closer to invade Barry’s personal space.

“Yes, yes I do.”


End file.
